“Everything, Bex. I want more of everything with you,” he growls.
I take a deep breath and steady my voice before responding, “So, where are we going to dinner?”
“Ms. B, you won’t believe the colors I captured this weekend!”
Mitchell holds out a fist as he strides into the “art room” at the youth center and I bump it casually. “Oh, yeah?”
A groan proceeds Priya through the doorway as she rolls her eyes. “Don’t encourage him, B. He’s been on and on about this—”
“Listen—” Mitchell starts, his hands up in defense.
“Y’all better not be raising your voices today, I swear to god,” Kayla says, sauntering in after Priya.
“You good, Kayla?” I ask, eyeing her with concern as she sits down at the single folding table we’ve been “gifted” for our space. That and a few chairs, a flimsy plastic set of drawers, and that’s it. Such a glorious little art studio space for these kids.
Kayla nods. “I’ll be fine; just have a headache. Been dealing with my brothers and sisters all week, it’s just…” She pauses and sighs. “It’s just nice to be here.”
There’s a tug in my chest at her admission. It’s the entire reason I pushed the youth center for this time and this space, for kids like Kayla, who just need a place to escape to—without getting into trouble. From previous conversations, I know that Kayla has three brothers and two sisters, and her dad walked out on all of them a few years ago. At seventeen, she’s the oldest of all of them. I can’t imagine the sense of responsibility and pressure she must be under at her age—not to mention the pandemonium at home.
“Mitchell,” I say, turning the attention away from Kayla. “Are your friends coming today?”
Usually, there’s at least eight to ten kids that come and hang out during this time. Not all of them are super into photography, but I can tell they’re appreciative of the space to just be themselves.
“Nah, Kelan is grounded, and I’m not sure if those chicks wanted to take pics of anything but themselves.” Mitchell snickers and mumbles, “Skanks.”
“Hey,” I say sharply, raising my brows in a warning.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, plopping into the chair next to Kayla.
“He’s not wrong,” Priya says from where she’s perched on the counter lining the far wall.
“All right, we’re not doing that here. This is what kind of place, my friends?” I open my hands up, inviting them to say it with me.
“A judgment-free place,” they all mumble in agreement.
“Right. So, that being said… Mitchell, what is it you’re so excited about?”
Mitchell turns in his seat to grin at Priya, but she’s scrolling through something on her phone. His smile falters a bit as he turns back to me, but he slides his phone over to me, open to his photos app.
It’s a picture of a woman through what looks like cloudy glass. Their facial features are slightly distorted, and there are little rainbow slivers streaked across the glass from light breaking through. I glance up at Priya and, while she’s still not looking at us, I can see pink tinge her cheeks.
“Mitchell, this is beautiful.” Turning to the others, I say, “You know how I’ve been saving to buy a printer for us?”
Kayla sits up straight. “You have it?” she asks excitedly.
“Not quite, but I’m really close to having enough. Come on, let’s look through some of your favorite pictures and start flagging which ones you want to print first.”
Chapter 7
Corey
Glancing down at my phone for the tenth time since I got in the limo, I scroll through the group chat I have going with Drew, Aaron, and our buddy, Christian Frost.
Drew:Put in a good word for us with OK tonight
Aaron:Asking your friends to do your work for you, bro?
Christian:STFU Aaron, it’s called ‘working your connections’
